


A Gest of Robyn Hode, or: Tales from the Life of a (sometimes) Scythian Archer

by arthur_177



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 10:59:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthur_177/pseuds/arthur_177
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton, immortal, and also Robin Hood. This was almost as good as the time he teamed up with Thor to explain to Steve that there were these furry little creatures in Alfheim called Tribbles, and when noble warriors from distant stars arrived, they fled from battle upon sight of the creatures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gest of Robyn Hode, or: Tales from the Life of a (sometimes) Scythian Archer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the avengers kinkmeme, round 13 prompt "When they have their 5th anniversary Clint decides, he has to tell Tony, that he's actually an immortal and was Robin Hood in his first 'life'"
> 
> I normally don't like this type of AU, and I normally don't ship Clint/Tony. Somehow, this happened anyway. It ended up not being a Highlander crossover, simply a 'Clint is very old and was at some point Robin Hood' thing, and there are a few moments which are oddly serious for something operating on this premise.

“You're kidding”

“I'm not”

“No, seriously. You are kidding. This is some elaborate scheme you have come up with to fuck with me, and you're going to try and convince me until I believe you, and when I do, you will mock me for it, after which I will huff and puff and not talk to you for an hour, and you will make it up to me by an evening of depraved, fantastic make-up sex, all as an idea of an anniversary present. I'm impressed, I really am. And 100% on board with this plan. So do carry on with your kidding so we can get to the make-up sex part.”

Clint blinks slowly, which is what he always does when Tony has gone off on a rant and he has to mentally go over the flood of words and determine whether it was the 'say something, Clint' type of rant or the 'Bruce is away, dummy is pouting, and I need someone to bounce ideas for cold fusion off' variety. Tony finds it absolutely endearing, even if he expresses it by repeating it slowly to Clint without all the complicated words more often than not. That tends to lead to pretty impressive make-up sex, too. 

Eventually Clint settles for the former variety and for a simple “I'm not kidding. Just thought you should know, what with five years of relationship against all odds and all that.” He sounds like Agent Barton of SHIELD, and he only does that when he's defensive and hiding it under a mask of efficiency and general 'I'm the cold-blooded sniper, I don't do vulnerable' nonsense. Tony will have a lot of nonsense from a lot of people, but this is not on the list. 

“Legolas. Clint. You're dating Tony Stark, the man who mocked the God of Thunder Himself for his dress sense before Cap decided it was cool, you're telling me you're Highlander, except with green tights rather than a kilt, and you expect me to keep a straight face?”

Clint exhales. Apparently he'd actually been nervous about that. Huh. “Ok, I concede that that's a point. It's true, though. Just thought you should know.”  
Tony claps him on the back. “Bringing out the big words now? I really ruffled your feathers there, didn't I. Sorry. So, I'll indulge you, Robin of Sherwood. Helping the poor, stealing from the rich, middle of Medieval England. Did you have a thing with Maid Marian, then? And a fat friar as a sidekick? No wonder you're not the resident genius then, learning wasn't exactly at its height back then, was it.”

Clint sighs, but he's smiling. This is common ground again. Tony pretends he thinks Clint is a little stupid, which both of them know isn't true, and Clint pretends the only reason Tony doesn't get an arrow to the knee for the stuff he puts Clint through is because he's good in bed, which they both know isn't why they've put up with each other all these years.

“It's just stories. Reality was a bit different, y'know. None of the glory and outrageous exploits either, mostly freezing and bad food and trying not to catch whichever plague was making the rounds that year. English Longbow's a sweet weapon though. And King John wasn't all that bad, he just screwed up politics pretty badly – it's all just more stories and Hollywood movies. Like with Arthur earlier. And don't diss medieval learning, it wasn't exactly the standard of Athens or Alexandria, but they were getting there again.” “Next thing you're telling me is that you were at Thermopylae, too” Clint laughs. “Nah. Was at Salamis though. The Scythian archers were legendary for a reason.” 

He winks, but he's already getting that faraway look again. Tony has wondered a lot about that faraway look, because a long time ago Phil Coulson had given Tony Stark a file on the Avengers initiative, and he'd skimmed over Agent Clint Barton's profile thinking that someone whose job was to focus on targets wasn't going to be one for faraway looks. Tony Stark doesn't like to be wrong, and he likes to figure out where his calculations were off. If Clint is, in actual fact, not kidding, then he thinks he's allowed to have miscalculated. 'I used to be at Salamis, and then at King Arthur's court, and then Robin Hood' wasn't really a variable he could have reasonably foreseen. The faraway look would make sense in someone who has seen centuries and lifetimes, and it explains why Clint and Thor sometimes share looks Tony doesn't understand and go on drinking sprees Tony is not quite explicitly, but obviously enough, told not to join them for. 

At the same time – Clint Barton, immortal, and also Robin Hood. This is almost as good as the time he teamed up with Thor to explain to Steve that there were these furry little creatures in Alfheim called Tribbles, and when noble warriors from distant stars arrived, they fled from battle upon sight of the creatures (Thor had taken to pop culture references a lot better than Steve, which Tony takes as a personal affront since he'd been doing his best to introduce Steve to everything he's missed, and yet Clint appears to have brought Thor up to speed on Midgardian tv shows over a couple of drinking sessions). And that thing about the boy who cried wolf applied to the archer who cried 'Tribbles in Alfheim' and 'SHIELD liaising with mysterious agency in Cardiff Bay' as well.

But it's Tony's anniversary, and he has a lot of plans for today, none of which involve getting into a fight with Clint about something as bizarre as this. So instead he says, “So how come the other guy dresses like Robin Hood and you dress like the Purple Power Ranger?” “Since when was there a.. never mind. And hey, give me a break, I was a carnie, black kevlar is not what people want to see in a circus tent.” “'Fury's Carnival of Imminent and Highly Efficient Death, coming to a HYDRA base near you'. Yes, I can see that that wouldn't exactly bring the visitors streaming in. Didn't answer my question though. Why's he wearing the green tights if you're Robin Hood?” Clint looks at him for a moment and then says, completely seriously, “Well, it's a running joke. He used to be the Archbishop of Canterbury back then – don't ask me how we met, long story, and you wouldn't believe a word of it -, and I don't know if you've seen ceremonial robes from that time, but they'd suck as a superhero costume. I kept mocking him for that, but I'm a good person at heart, so one day after too much ale I offered that if he ever needed a superhero costume, he could have the hood and the green colour scheme and the longbow, and I'd come up with something new. So there, he's dressed like Robin Hood, and I have..something new.”

Tony contemplates this and then says “Now you are definitively kidding.”

Clint smiles. “About that bit? Yeah. Does that mean you believe the rest?”

“No. But I'm willing to skip to the sex without requiring there to be a formal make-up element as a compromise.”

“I can live with that.”

“Well, then, off to my bedchamber, oh noble Robin of Sherwood.”

Naturally, Tasha walks in on them on the last sentence. Fortunately, all she says is “Your roleplaying ideas need serious work.” Clint retorts with “What can I do, shagging Legolas at Helm's Deep didn't satisfy him any longer”.   
Tony is about as convinced that Clint is kidding as he was before, but if he thinks about it, that's not the important part right now. The important part is that Clint trusts him with his life and with his stories and histories, fictional or real.   
That, and the fantastic anniversary sex they are about to have. 

 

\- EPILOGUE -

“And as we returned the prized necklace to her, she looked at me with disdain, chastising “Do not look to me as if you expect a reward, all of this was your fault in the first place”.” Thor laughs, draining his glass, and Clint joins in, pushing the next round towards Thor. “And I thought I had good stories; giants were in pretty short supply around here rather early on. I almost missed them when the Fomorians finally left, although the times with the Tuatha Dé Dannan were fun.” He draws an arrow in the puddle of beer on the table because he is tipsy and can be off-guard around Thor, and right now, his life is better than he could have dreamed it to be in this giant-free age. “Hey, did I tell you about that time I won a war for Llywelyn Faur?” Thor laughs again, and there is something about his merriment that fills the room and makes any chill and darkness Clint sometimes feels about this immortality thing recede. “Many times. You are fond of this tale.” “I was fond of the guy, too. Man, did I root for him. But it wasn't to be. I enjoyed teaming up with Owain Glyndŵr as well. Reminded me of my Robin of Sherwood days.” They each sip their beer in silence for a while, lost in thought of ages and battles past. 

Eventually Thor says “You meant to tell him, so you could share your tales with your beloved.” Clint nods, thoughtfully. “I did. Still not convinced he believes me. It's not exactly as if I could call Herodotus and say, look, could you tell Tony Stark that the son of my general told you that I was at Salamis, and that you really didn't make the bit about how damn good we were on that ship up in book 8? But at least he knows now, sort of. At least I'm done hiding. Well, that part of me, at least.” Thor nods. Thor understands the problems one faces in modern-day Midgard. ”Did he take it well?”

Clint ponders this. They had sort of reached an equilibrium of 'I don't quite believe you, but I also don't think you're batshit crazy becausee you insist you used to be Robin Hood', and in any case it didn't seem likely that after all the incredible stuff they encountered on their day job Tony would freak out over something like this. Tony wasn't the freak-out type anyway. Tony was the prod it until it gives up answers type, but thankfully he hadn't really done that either. 

“Sort of. I don't think he really believes me, but he gives me the benefit of the doubt.” And because this is all too serious for Clint's liking already, he ads with a grin, “And then he declared my words jest but insignificant, and proceeded to conduct exploits worthy of scaldic verse in our bedchamber”. 

Thor laughs in that heartfelt manner which expresses in deeds rather than words how fond he is of this team which has adopted him and shows him their love in peculiarities and soft mocking. Clint smiles and order another round. When he gets home, Tony is still in the workshop, and he tells him how much he reminds him of Archimedes and Tesla sometimes, and that he loves him. Tony tells him that he is sappy when he is drunk, that under no circumstances will they roleplay 'Robin Hood and his merry scientist' in bed, and that he loves him too. 

He misses the past sometimes – the philosophers arguing in the streets, witnessing Taliesin's transformations, the bright-eyed belief and grim determination he saw in and shared with the men around him at Catraeth, at Mynydd Hyddgen, at Bannockburn. Now the English Longbows they make aren't the same anymore, and he can't go and see a man in Wessex about that problem he has with his bowstring, because Clint outlived that expertise, much as he's outlived a lot of things and people he has loved. But then, there is now, and now is the Avengers, and carbon fibre with aluminium alloy bows, and Tony Stark. 

He misses the past sometimes, but all in all, this has stopped feeling alien and started feeling like home a long time ago. 

Later, much later, Tony calls him Robin of Sherwood as he proposes. Clint isn't sure if that means that he believes him, or if it means that Tony is simply being Tony, but he says yes anyway.


End file.
